


Safer Not Safe

by wood_originals



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Choking, M/M, Open Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wood_originals/pseuds/wood_originals
Summary: Jughead doesn't want Archie indulging in a dangerous habit alone. Archie doesn't mind the company.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Jughead Jones
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62





	Safer Not Safe

The air in his bedroom was hot, thick, and Archie couldn’t stop thinking about Jughead. His clever hands, the little grin he had when he was right, the way his hair flipped out from his hat at the back of his neck.

He laid out on his bed, room lit only by the streetlights outside. He glanced out his window and saw the window in the house across the street was bright. He wondered if it was Betty or Jughead in there. Or both of them. If they were _together_.

It wasn’t hard to imagine. Their merry group of four had done a lot together, staying in Veronica’s family lodge, in her apartment, in the school after dark, in the bunker. The four of them had history. They were a constellation of patterns and partners, messy and comfortable.

Archie tried not to focus on the fact that the only person he hadn’t been allowed to touch, to kiss, was Jughead. And the fact that he wanted to so bad, it felt like an ache in his chest sometimes.

He swallowed, the motion forced, hyper aware of all his movements. He was hard in his jeans, and he pressed his hand against the front of them, touching himself through the fabric. He thought about Veronica, he thought about Betty, and inevitably, he thought about Jughead.

He loved them all, so much. And he wanted them all. But most of all, he wanted what he couldn’t have.

He stopped teasing himself through his jeans, and grabbed a pillow from the head of his bed, reaching into the pillowcase and pulling out a soft strip of fabric. It was from one of Veronica’s robes, she had left it in his room and when she never asked for it back, Archie found a different use for it.

He got the idea from her. She wrapped it around the back of his neck, pulled him closer for a kiss. It felt like something that was a scene from a movie. A lot of what Veronica did felt like something out of a movie, special and planned and expensive. Archie didn’t deserve her, but he had her, and so he did his best to do everything and anything he could for her.

The next time he was alone, he wrapped it around his neck, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric, the reminder of the last time she was there. He didn’t remember how it happened, how he wrapped it around all the way around, why he tugged it tighter, but the feeling it gave him was addictive.

Cutting off his breath made everything so sharp, so bright. It felt so good. It gave him control. It gave him focus. It was his little secret.

Somehow, using it had become a habit, especially when he was thinking about Jughead, when it felt like he couldn’t stop. He tied the fabric into a familiar knot, looping it around a bar on his bedframe, keeping hold of the end. He tested his tie, and it tightened easily with a pull.

He popped open his jeans one-handed, pushing down eagerly at the fabric, pulling his length out, getting lost in the feeling as he started to stroke himself in a familiar rhythm. He slowly pulled on the strip of fabric, constricting his breath, only giving himself a full breath when he could tell he needed it. He felt his vision blur slightly at the edges, and the movement of his hand was faster, more insistent, bringing himself closer and closer to release.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, dulled to the rest of the world, he heard the sound of the front door open and close. It took him a second to register the sound, and when he stilled his hand, he could hear someone coming up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The way Jughead did.

Panic was the only thing sharp now, and it flooded his body, like ice water so cold it burnt was spilling under his skin. He let go of the fabric, leaving it around his neck, and he quickly tucked himself into his jeans, biting back an embarrassing little noise, barely hiding himself before Jughead threw the door open.

“Hey, Arch, I saw…” Jughead started, freezing in the doorframe, his words coming to a stuttering stop, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. “I saw… I saw your light on.”

Archie pushed himself up, fabric still dangling from around his neck, fighting to catch his breath, hands awkwardly covering the obvious tent in his jeans. He tried to make himself laugh, say something funny, brush it off, but he felt a bit dazed after pushing himself up so quick, his chest tight, though he tried to pull in deep breaths.

“You can’t do that,” Jughead said after a moment. His voice had an edge to it, and Archie couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear. He pointed at the strap wrapped around Archie’s neck, and Archie tugged it off, dropping it beside him on the bed, scrunched up.

Jughead shook his head, stepping into the room. “No, Arch, you don’t get it. You can’t do that. It’s not safe. Not ever, and certainly not like that.” He walked over to his bed, leaning over him to grab at the fabric, tangling it in his fingers. Archie felt red hot all over, the heat replacing the ice cold, coming off him in waves. Anxiety and shame and arousal mixed into something dark, something that felt like it could choke him more than any fabric could.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Archie said finally, his voice a little scratchy, and he had to clear his throat before he continued. “I mean, I was, but I wasn’t… I’m safe.”

“No, you aren’t!” Jug replied quickly, a little too loud. Archie felt his shoulders twitch up a little, as though tensing for a fight, and Jug sighed, rubbing at his forehead, sitting down at the edge of his bed. “Sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry Arch, I shouldn’t have barged in here, I shouldn’t have yelled, but this isn’t safe. It’s never really safe, so many things can go wrong, but doing it by yourself… it’s stupid.”

Archie blinked at him. He tried to take his words in, but he didn’t know how to comprehend them, he didn’t know how to reply. Every time he loosened up on the strip of fabric, air came to him easily. And maybe sometimes he let it stay tight too long, maybe he denied himself a breath when he knew he needed it, but nothing had ever happened. He was in control.

Jughead stared at him, intently. He opened his mouth to say something, paused, and then started again, as though he needed the moment to prepare himself for what he was going to say. “If you… if you want to do this, or if you _need_ to do this, just… let me help, okay?”

Archie tilted his head to the side slightly, their eyes locked together. He started shaking his head a little, confused. “No… no, Jug, no, you don’t have to do that. I don’t. I don’t _need_. I don’t want to make you… I promise I’m fine. This isn’t, it isn’t anything.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Jughead said, voice slightly softer, words carefully stated. He finally looked down, his eyes trailing over Archie’s body, his cheeks going slightly pink, before they settled on his hands, tangling the fabric around those fingers Archie couldn’t stop wanting.

“I’m offering, of my own free will and volition. I mean… helping is what friends are for, right? And I’ve read about, well, some of this kind of stuff.” Jughead’s words started speeding up slightly. “Even if I was just in the room, like a safety net, or I could hold it for you, or, something.”

Archie stayed as still as he could, half afraid that if he moved, he would come in his jeans. The idea of Jug being there while… while he touched himself, while he choked himself, made him want to sink into the floorboards. But also like he wanted to moan and say, “Yes, please.”

And the idea of Jug actually _helping_ him, taking the control over him, was… well, he couldn’t think about that quite yet. It made his heart skip a beat in his chest, and it pushed him dangerously close to the edge.

“Of course, if you don’t want me to, of course that’s fine…” Jug started to say, breaking the silence that was building between them, his voice level and clear again. He started shifting himself up off the bed.

Archie’s hand snapped out, grabbing Jug by the wrist, keeping him close. A helpless mewling sound spilled from Archie’s lips, and his eyes dropped immediately, hand shaking slightly, slick with sweat and hopefully nothing else. “I want you,” he said quickly as he sucked in a breath. He forced himself to look up and said again, doing his best to make his words as level and clear as Jug’s were, “I want you here.”

“Okay,” Jug said, and Archie felt like he could hear a smile in his voice. His curiosity won over, and he looked up to see Jug, smiling at him, fondly. “Can I text B quick? I was just coming over here to ask if you wanted to watch a movie, she’ll be wondering where I am.”

Archie pulled his hand back, nodding, nervous hands settling in his lap. “Of course. But. You’re not going to… tell her, about this, are you?”

“No,” Jughead said simply, though as he typed out a quick text, he bit at his bottom lip. “I just mean, we can… figure out later, how we want to handle this. But me and Betty have already talked about how it’s okay if… me and you were to happen.”

Archie blinked at that, and he remembered Veronica’s soft clear voice, saying to him more than once, usually in teasing tone, about how friendship was about sharing, and how she wouldn’t mind sharing him with Jughead the same way he shared her with Betty. He didn’t really realize at the time what she was saying. Maybe he hadn’t let himself realize it, but the intent was clear.

Veronica knew, and she was okay with it. Betty knew, and she was okay with it, too. Jughead knew, and Jughead, maybe, wanted him too. It was all kinds of overwhelming in the best way possible.

Jughead put his phone away and kicked off his shoes, climbing onto the bed. Archie pulled his legs up to make room, which just further emphasized that he was… so much more disheveled than Jughead was, shirt gone and still half hard in his jeans, though he gained some composure back from all the talking and realizations.

“Can I move up there?” Jug said, pointing up to the spot beside Archie at the head of the bed, and Archie nodded easily. Jug grinned again before crawling up to sit beside him, though he turned to face him, sitting cross-legged.

Archie turned his head to look at him, his breath a little shaky from having him so close, he could feel his warmth, the way the mattress moved underneath him. He smelled a little like popcorn, and Archie couldn’t help but smile back at him, moving a hand up to run it through his hair self-consciously.

Jughead held the fabric out between them. Archie lowered his head to him slightly, and Jughead lifted it up, pulling it over his head, settling it around his neck, pulling it taut but not tight.

“Do you want to do this?” Jughead asked him. Archie could feel him watching for his reaction.

Archie gestured down at himself, at the unsteady way his breath shuddered in his chest, lifting his hips off the bed slightly, feeling the tight pressure of his jeans against himself. “Do you have to ask?”

Jughead grinned again, a quick laugh shared between them. “It’s generally considered polite. I just had to do it. And I need to tell you that we can stop any time.” He tugged at the fabric slightly, tightening the hold it had on Archie. Archie tilted his head back, letting himself feel it fully, before Jughead let up. “All you have to do it tap on my arm and I’ll stop. And I’ll stop if I think I have to, I’ll be watching your face, okay?”

“Hnn,” Archie made a desperate sound, nodding a little, curling his toes as he shifted on the bed. His hands instinctively moved to settle on the edge of his jeans, thumb ready to pop open the button. He glanced over at Jughead, following his lead of asking, if only with his eyes.

Jughead looked about as red and nervous as Archie was sure he looked a minute ago, but he steadied himself and nodded for Archie. “Yeah. You can do that. That’s why I’m here.” His voice was breathy in a way Archie had never heard before, and he had to add that to the list of things he loved about Jughead Jones.

It was getting to be a very long list.

Archie turned back to the task at hand, unbuttoning his jeans, squirming a little as he pushed down his jeans and briefs, taking himself in his hand. He stroked himself again, slower than he would if he were by himself, always in a bit of a rush. But now that he’d been caught, there was nothing to hurry for, and besides, maybe he wanted to show off a little for Jug.

He felt the fabric tug slightly at his neck, and he glanced over at Jug, biting at his bottom lip. “I’m going to make it tighter now, okay? I’m going to choke you. If you want it tighter, you can… maybe, make a noise for me? And remember, tap my arm if you need me to stop, okay?”

Archie nodded that he understood, before turning back to himself. He continued to stroke himself, feel the strap get tighter around his neck, so much slower than he would have done by himself. He closed his eyes and moaned, a strangled, embarrassed noise in Jughead’s company. Archie was rewarded almost instantly, Jughead tugged tighter at the length of fabric in his hand, giving him what he needed.

He was so close. Archie opened his eyes, his hand starting to speed up, the idea of showing off for Jug lost in the midst of the intoxicating pleasure. He could feel Jughead shifting beside him, and he glanced over just slightly, could see the fabric wrapped around one hand. Jughead was using his other hand to adjust himself in his jeans, and Archie made a soft keening noise for him, pure wanting, and he watched his hand tighten and pull. Jughead was true to his word, giving him exactly what he asked for, putting Archie first.

Archie’s breaths were shallow, and he could feel his blood pounding in his ears, focusing almost as much on drawing in shallow breaths as he was focusing on keeping a steady rhythm as he stroked himself. As good as it felt to have control over himself, it felt ten times as good to give that over to Jughead.

The reality of the moment hit him in waves, each brighter and better than the next. Jughead was beside him. He wanted to be there. He was hard in his jeans from choking the air from him.

That Archie could almost feel his eyes on him as a weighted thing, heavy with intent.

He couldn’t hold back. Archie cried out, a breaking, choked sound. Jughead tugged tight on the fabric, his other hand moving to settle on Archie’s neck, and feeling that heat against his throat was all Archie needed to come, shooting thick lines against his stomach, his chest, and Jughead quickly dropped his grip, using the hand already at Archie’s neck to pull the fabric off of him, so fast he felt the fabric burn against his skin slightly, as he worked himself through his orgasm.

The effect was dizzying. His released timed almost perfectly with air flooding his lungs, his body shaking and shuddering as he fought for breath, stars bursting behind his eyelids, his vision fuzzy as he forced himself to open his eyes.

He turned his head to the side, panting, looking at Jug. Colours danced at the edges of his vision and Archie made a soft noise at the sight of him, it slipped out between his lips before he could bite it back. Jughead was staring back at him, pupils blown in his dark eyes, his bottom lip red and wet from where he’d been chewing on it, hands shaking slightly, wringing the fabric in between his fingers.

“Good?” Jughead asked, sounding almost nervous.

Archie had to take a minute to convince his body that he was okay, let his breath settle down, but he held Jug’s gaze until he could say, trying sound playful, “Do you have to ask?”

Jughead laughed, relief flooding his voice, and Archie tried to laugh with him, but only managed one scratchy sound. He shifted onto his side, his movements a little slow, limbs heavy. He was a little lower down than Jug, having squirmed down onto the bed during all the excitement, and Jug was still sitting up, legs crossed between them. Archie reached out, pushing up Jug’s shirt, resting his fingertips at the top of his jeans.

He looked up at Jug, and Jug nodded slightly. “If you want,” he said, unable to hide the heat in his voice, looking a little stunned.

Archie clumsily opened the button of his jeans, tugging the zipper open with fumbling fingers. “I want you,” he said as he pulled him out of his jeans. Jug leaned back a little against the wall, spreading his legs open for him. Looking up at him like that, Jughead was kind of a stunning sight.

Wrapping his hand around Jug, it was the first time he’d ever done something like that for another guy, and it felt awkward, like a mirror image, everything backwards on someone else than it was on himself, but Jug bit back a sharp breath like it felt okay to him.

He teased his thumb along the underside of him, exploring the differences between them absently, and Jughead made that same, sharp intake of breath for him again. He wondered if he could do anything to make him moan, and that thought encouraged him to wrap his hand around him properly, stroking him with the same rhythm he used on himself.

Jughead had his hands on his own knees, holding his legs open for him shakily, but after a minute he reached out and tangled one hand in Archie’s hair, tugging slightly at him. He looked up to Jug’s face to see if he wanted him to stop, but his lips were squeezed tight together, like he was afraid of sounds slipping out, and pleasure played across his features.

Archie sped up slightly, shifting closer to him, pressing his face against his thigh, his body curling around him. He wanted him to feel his heat the same way Jug made him feel earlier. Getting to see him this close felt like something sacred to Archie. The air between them smelled like sex and watching his body tense and react as he got closer and closer felt so good, Archie had to turn his head slightly to muffle a moan against Jug’s thigh.

The hand in his hair clenched tightly, and Archie tensed his hand around Jughead slightly, mimicking the movement as he looked up to see him. Jughead’s eyes were on him, mouth hanging open slightly, his bottom lip split from keeping quiet, he looked like he was trying to tell Archie something, and Archie knew immediately what he meant. Archie nodded quickly for him.

Jughead tilted his head back against the wall, coming for him, the only sound escaping his mouth one last sharp breath, his hips lifting off the bed, fucking into Archie’s hand as he worked through the pulsing heat. Archie just stared at him, awed, the hand wet with Jughead’s release sitting palm up on the sheets between them.

When Jughead finally looked back down at him, Archie asked, “Good?”

“Do you have to ask?”


End file.
